


Prison Break

by Kayleecole21



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), Connor MacManus - Fandom, Sean Patrick Fanery
Genre: Boondock Saints - Freeform, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Flandus - Freeform, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sean Patrick Flanery - Freeform, Sex, Sexual Content, The Boondocks Saints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 17:30:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4928695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayleecole21/pseuds/Kayleecole21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor MacManus and his brother, Murphy, have just escaped the Hoag maximum security prison after only serving two years of their life long sentences. Taking hold up in Doc's bar, Connor finds himself in some more than welcome female company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prison Break

“Murph, someone’s comin’, get down.” Connor MacManus called across the filth ridden attic to his twin brother.  
He heard some rough stumbling before all was quiet and dark, and took solace in the fact that Murphy had made it safely to his designated hiding spot, crouched down behind a grimy full-length mirror that leaned against the far wall.  
Connor himself had taken refuge in an ancient trunk of some kind, tossing a moth eaten blanket over himself just in case someone decided to lift the lid and check for inhabitants.  
Trying to slow his breathing in the already sweltering attic, Connor suddenly heard the attic door being pushed open. Whoever had been hunkering up the stairs had now entered their domain and quickly flipped on the light switch near the entrance.  
“Boys? Connor? Murph? ‘S just me… Come on out.”  
Connor breathed a sizeable sigh of relief as he quickly pushed the worn blanket aside and stood up from within the trunk just in time to see Murphy crawling on his hands and knees from behind the large mirror; covered in dust.  
A broad smile lit across Connor’s thin face as he saw the old man clutching his walking cane in front of him and setting down a sizeable tray of lobsters and booze on the pool table, which sat in the middle of the room.  
“Aye, Doc, you’re a god send.”  
Murphy quickly cross the creaking floorboards to grab a lobster and crack it in half, holding it above his mouth and letting the warm meat slide straight down into his mouth which sat wide open in anticipation.  
“I knew you boys must be hungry… You did a good thing though, hidin’ like that. You need to keep it up. They’re all scourin’ the streets lookin’ for you two. They’ve already banged on my door twice askin’ questions. ‘S only a matter o’ time before they show up with a fucking court order to look around…”  
“Aye, we’re hopin’ to be outta here within the next day or so, Doc. We’d never want to over stay our welcome.” Connor crossed to the table as well and took a hearty gulp off of an aged scotch in a short glass.  
“Nonsense, boy, you know damn well it ain’t that…” Doc looked up at Connor, obviously frustrated, and then quickly picked up on the lighthearted sarcasm that he was trying to portray.  
“We can never thank you enough, Doc, for what you’re doin’. We know what a risk it is, taking us in right now.” Murphy never seemed to mind talking with his mouth full, and Connor couldn’t help but smirk at what their mother might say if she saw her dark haired son speaking through a mouth filled with lobster.  
“If there is anything else you boys might need, you just… you just, let me… Fuck! Ass! …You just let me know and I’ll get it.”  
Murphy smiled wide at the old man, as if for a single moment he had slipped back into his old life; a life where he wasn’t a wanted fugitive and he could go take shots down at the bar with all the working class of Boston.  
“We’re fine, Doc, thank you. Why don’t you go get some rest? It’s been a long fuckin’ night.”  
“Aye… I’ll see you boys in the morning for Irish coffee and some breakfast.”  
Doc put his hand down on Connor’s where he had it leaned against the felt of the pool table, patting it several times, then looking kindly up into Connor’s hazel eyes; and Connor knew that Doc was terrified that he wouldn’t see them tomorrow, or ever again.  
Connor picked up a lobster and cracked it open; picking up the white meat within the red shell just as he heard Doc ease the door closed behind him.  
The MacManus twins had just spent the last 24 months in the Hoag, Boston’s maximum-security prison. With some help from a few people on the inside, the boys had been presented with a very minimal opportunity to possibly escape, which they jumped on.  
After ditching their ride, Connor and Murphy quickly made their way to McGinty’s bar, owned and operated by Doc, where they knew they would be safe, even if it were just for the night.  
Connor had no idea what tomorrow held for he and his brother, as the two sat and ate their first edible dinner in over two years, in complete silence.  
**  
Sitting with his back against the attic wall, Connor listened to his twin brother lightly snore in the dark. Murphy had wasted no time in clearing the billiard balls from the table and curling up in the fetal position against the green felt, of course leaving no room for Connor to lay.  
Weather it was his ability to shut off his brain when he was exhausted, or if it was the faith he had in Connor about keeping him safe; Murphy had never been one to miss a full night’s rest.  
While stressed, Connor spent thousands of sleepless nights throughout his life, tossing and turning, fretting over mornings to come; all the while listening to his brother slumber peacefully beside him.  
Nothing had changed in close to 40 years; Murphy had assumed his position and was out like a light; Connor was blowing smoke rings in the dark and waiting for the bar to be stormed by a SWAT team.  
“Connor…Con…”  
Murphy’s faint voice called to him in the dark, stirring him from his place on the floor. Connor rose in the pitch black of the attic, and quietly stumbled his way to the pool table where his pale skinned brother lay.  
“Murph? What is it?” Connor’s voice was fainter than a whisper as he leaned down, his lips less than an inch away from Murphy’s ear.  
“Connor…”  
Realizing that his brother was still fast asleep, he leaned down and placed a strong kiss on the top of his dark hair before murmuring a quiet response.  
“Aye, I’m here Murph, I’m here. Go to sleep, nothin’s gonna happen to ya while I’m ‘round.”  
Standing still and taking a moment to listen for any more of Murphy’s sleep-talking, Connor only stepped away after several moments of silence from his slumbering brother.  
His hands searching aimlessly in the dark for the bottle of scotch Doc had left for them on the table, Connor’s fingers finally made contact with the glass neck of a bottle, only to roll his eyes at the realization that it was empty.  
Murphy had of course downed everything that he had been given; his brother had never been one to waste.  
Setting the glass container back on the table, Connor began making his way for the door, holding his hands out in front of him, feeling his way through the darkness.  
His palm catching the doorknob and twisting, a small flicker of light filled the room as he opened the heavy door, revealing a dim hallway before him. Quietly, Connor pulled the attic door closed behind him as he began his venture down the creaky floorboards that lead him to the stairway.  
Just before he hit the first stair, Connor passed the bedroom door that was slightly left ajar; beyond there he knew Doc was fast asleep in a four poster bed; the old man always keeping an ear out for anyone who may come in the night and jeopardize the boys’ safety.  
One heavy booted foot after another, Connor walked down the aged stair case, finally making his way down to the open bar, slightly surprised to find the lights were still on.  
It was unlike Doc to forget the lights, but then again, the man was no spring chicken, and he was constantly surprised that he still maintained a business all on his own.  
Stepping behind the spotless bar, Connor reached up on the shell and found a half killed bottle of Jack before leaning below and fetching a glass. Spinning the bottle’s cap free, Connor poured himself a generous amount of amber colored liquor. He had spent two years in jail with nothing but secretly made moonshine, and he was not going to waste an opportunity for real booze.  
Throwing the double shot back, the hot liquid warming his tongue and stinging his throat, Connor had placed the glass back on the bar and reached for the bottle to pour himself another when a small sound met his ears.  
Turning quickly and reaching for the gun he knew Doc kept under the bar, Connor stopped mid motion when he saw a woman standing before him.  
She was medium height with thick brown locks that stopped at her shoulders; her eyes were lively and her defined jaw was left slack in a moment of surprise.  
“Who the fuck are you?!” Connor’s voice was harsh and loud and held no hope of hiding how surprised he was to realize that he was not alone.  
“I’m Heather, but a better question would probably be, ‘Who the actual fuck are you?’” The woman’s gaze was fierce, but it was the fire behind her eyes that made Connor flush at how beautiful she was.  
“What the hell are you doin’ here? The place is closed, lady!” Unable to control the volume in his voice, Connor continued to boom at the female stranger, wanting desperately for her to leave before she made any connection as to who he was.  
“Look, asshole, this is my Uncle’s place and if you don’t get the fuck out right now, I’ll call the fucking cops and…” Heather’s voice suddenly trailed as she tilted her head to the side, examining Connor’s face closely as she neared him one step at a time.  
“What’s your name?”  
Connor’s jaw clenched, unsure of what the hell he should say.  
“Oh my god! You’re Connor! You’re fucking Connor MacManus!”  
Connor looked wildly from side to side; what the hell should he do? Restrain her? Gag her? How long did he have before she attempted to warn the authorities of his and Murphy’s whereabouts? The news stations surely had their faces plastered all over every channel, putting every citizen of Boston on high alert.  
“Look, lady, I’m not gonna hurt ya, alright? Just, uh, just let me get my brother and we’ll get outta here, okay?” Connor put his hands up in the air before slowly edging his way out from behind the bar.  
“I didn’t think you’d hurt me, Connor. My uncle does nothing but talk about you and Murphy. I only recognized you from that photo he has of you two over on the wall. He always tells me how proud he is of you two.”  
Connor’s eyes jetted over to a dusty frame that sat crooked on the wall, a snapshot that had been taken of him and Murphy, drinking at McGinty’s, over a decade ago.  
“So, when did they release you?”  
Connor couldn’t believe this woman’s words. She didn’t know that he had escaped from prison just hours before? What, did she live under a rock?  
“Today, uh, we got out today…”  
“Wow, after two years? What does fresh air taste like?” Sydney let a small laugh huff from her chest while still locking her eyes on Connor, who still was avoiding eye contact.  
“You… you okay?”  
Calling him back to reality, Connor suddenly realized how strange he must still look with his hands up and his mind wandering.  
“Yeah… ‘M fine, thanks… So, yer, uh, yer Doc’s neice?”  
“Yeah, I come around here after my graveyard shift to clean up for him. I’m a nurse over at the hospital, and he struggles to keep up with the place, although god knows he’ll never sell it, let alone try and hire someone else to help him.”  
A crooked smiled formed over Connor’s face as he nodded in agreement, he too knowing all too well how stubborn the old man could be.  
“Aye, sounds like Doc.”  
Heather returned Connor’s contagious grin before looking from side to side.  
“So, where is Murphy? You said he was here too, right?”  
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, he’s upstairs, sleepin’ like a damn baby, like always.”  
Connor ran a callused hand through his mess of hair that was long over due for a trim.  
“And you were, what? Helping yourself to the bar?” Heather shot Connor a sly, teasing grin before eyeing the still open bottle of Jack that sat in Connor’s wake.  
Connor gave a slight blush, coupled with a flustered, open jawed look back at the evidence.  
“Yeah… Well, I…”  
“Was in prison for two years and are fucking entitled to a real drink?”  
Connor shot Heather a look of surprise, and was met with what he remembered to be coy flirtation; something he had not experienced in far too long.  
“Exactly, figured I fuckin’ earned it,” Connor spoke with an air of renewed self confidence as he made peace with the fact that Heather had no intention of outing him to the police that were still knocking on doors throughout Boston.  
“If you didn’t, I don’t know who did… Look at you, cleaning up South Boston, one mobster at a time. Shit, I know kids who want to be you when they grow up.”  
Heather, who had sauntered over to take her place on a barstool began shrugging off her black jacket to reveal a pair of baby blue scrubs.  
“Well, do me a favor and tell them that it ain’t all fame and glory.” Connor walked heavily over to the barstool beside his newfound confidant before taking a seat.  
“Yeah, Doc told me about your father’s passing a while back, right before you guys went in? I’m real sorry… that must have been hard, not even being able to properly honor him and mourn.” Heather pulled the still open bottle of whiskey towards her, along with Connor’s glass that she had now decided to share with him.  
“Aye, hard was an understatement, but thanks. Thank you, for caring.”  
Connor nodded silently, momentarily reliving past pains, before gripping the neck of the bottle and drinking several shots without needing a glass.  
“Woah there cowboy, you’re gonna need to pace yourself. Don’t want you passing out and puking on me like some sophomore prom date.”  
Connor eyed her suspiciously with the bottle still firmly pressed to his lips.  
“Your prom date puked on you?” Connor cracked a grin before replacing the bottle on the bar.  
“Yes…”  
Connor raised an eyebrow at Heather, making her cheeks flush pink before pouring herself another shot.  
“No. Fine, I puked on him and passed out.”  
“Aye, there it is…” Connor cracked a wide smile before laughing thickly into his forearm.  
“Doesn’t change the fact that you just spent two years in the Hoag and your liver has reverted you back to your elementary school days.” Heather held out the bottle to Connor who took yet another shot.  
“Baby, I could drink my Ma under the table when I was in grade school, and she wasn’t some cute little thing like you, trust me. Ma could shut down a pub.”  
Connor gave way to a whole body shrug as he shook off a haze that was making its way over him.  
“Not to sound too 90’s cliché over here, but, you think I’m cute?” Heather gave a small hiccup and it was practically the last nail in the coffin for Connor wanting to lay this woman down.  
“Aye, but on the other hand, I’m not sure how much you can read into that. I had dinner with your uncle earlier and he was lookin’ pretty cute too.”  
Heather let out a laugh that was much louder than intended, then covered her mouth in surprise.  
“Well, I’m pretty sure if you climbed in his bed, he wouldn’t turn you down…”  
Heather’s words were slightly slurred and thickening, and Connor raised an eyebrow at the woman who had accused him of being a lightweight.  
“I don’t know how well you know your uncle, Darlin’, but that man is pushin’ 90 and I have no doubt that he could kick my ass.”  
A broad smile met Connor and he couldn’t stop himself from showing his own in return.  
“You’re good to him. You always have been.”  
Heather looked down and her luscious hair fell over her face, her fingers tracing a water ring left on top of the bar.  
“Aye, Murph and I love that old man; but truth is that he took care of us like his own long before we even knew we had a father.”  
“I’ll have to come back in the morning to meet your brother, I’m sure Doc will have grilled up eggs and bacon by no later than 7 am, as usual.”  
Heather sipped her whisky casually, as if it were a coke, obviously trying to slow her speed.  
“Uh, yeah, that’d be great, I just don’t know how long me and Murph are gonna be ‘round.” Connor popped his knuckles as he spoke, awkwardly dancing around the fact that they had not been released, but were actually fugitives on the run.  
“Why? I thought for sure you’d want to stay for a while at least, until you guys can find your own place-“ Heather’s voice dropped and Connor knew she had realized the situation mid sentence. Raising a brow and turning towards her, Connor clenched his jaw, ready for Heather’s reaction.  
“You weren’t released… you escaped, you and Murphy.”  
Heather’s tone was flat and she sighed and shook her head softly, feeling idiotic for assuming anything otherwise.  
“Aye, we weren’t released. Ya got me.”  
Connor watched Heather with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. Knowing that she was Doc’s niece made him assume she was trust worthy, however Connor was all too aware that blood did not always equal loyalty.  
“So, you were like top shit then in prison, right?” Heather’s question caught Connor off guard and he was quickly realizing that pegging this woman down was not currently an option. Her reactions were one damn curve ball after another.  
“Uh, not exactly, they tend not to like ya too much when you murder all o’ their friends.” Connor reached in his back pocket as he spoke, fishing out a cigarette and offering one to Heather, only to have her shake her head in a polite ‘no’.  
“Shit, I didn’t really think about that, but I mean, you had people help you escape?”  
“Well, yeah,” Connor stopped to light the smoke that sat between his pursed lips, “There’s always people willin’ to help ya for a price, ya get me?”  
“Connor MacManus, are you telling me that you traded sexual favors for your freedom? They could make an A&E documentary about your trials.”  
Heather’s stone face of fake concern made Connor blow smoke through his nostrils, his chest heaving with sudden laughter.  
“You’re kind of a fucker, aren’t ya?” Connor looked down into his lap, huffed laughter still making its way through parted lips.  
“Hey, I resent that. I’ll have you know that I happen to be the highest quality of fuckin’ lady, alright?” Heather ripped the cigarette out of Connor’s lips and took a long drag off of it, blowing a small cloud of smoke upwards before throwing him a side-glance.  
“I stand corrected, darlin’. Forgive me, I had no idea the level of class that had graced me with her presence.”  
Connor pulled a second smoke out of the half crushed pack that sat in his back pocket, eyeing Heather coyly.  
“So, back to you being treated like a sexual play thing in prison…”  
Heather cracked a wide smile before she could even finish her tease of a sentence.  
“Christ, woman, I didn’t suck a dick the whole time I was in there, sorry to disappoint.”  
Heather nodded slowly, raising her brows in a mock disbelief.  
“Well, you know, except Murph’s, but that’s different, he gets lonely, we traded favors.”  
This time it was Heather who gave way to a fit of giggles as she threw back another shot and finished off the rest of Connor’s cigarette.  
“Look at you, brother of the year.”  
Connor rolled his eyes while swishing whisky from cheek to cheek before swallowing.  
“Aye, fuckin’ right. If ya can’t count on yer brother to get ya off, who can ya count on?”  
“Me.”  
Connor looked up suddenly from his empty glass, locking Heather’s eyes which had suddenly taken on a lurid, hooded persuasion.  
“That right?”  
“Look, I don’t usually do things like this, I’m not really that kind of girl… Well, maybe I am, but you don’t know that, so we’ll just say that I’m not and run with it…” Heather stamped out the red cherry of her cigarette in the ashtray as she spoke.  
“The way I see it, we’re both adults, you’ve only gotten sexier since that photo over on the wall was taken; plus, it’s been a while and I’ve got an inch that could definitely use some scratching. Not to mention the fact that I’m wearing scrubs, and that has not stopped you for shamelessly staring at my chest since the moment I walked in the room; I’m pretty sure your itch is much bigger and meaner than mine.”  
Connor eyed Heather with a hunger that he had felt every single night that he had spent sprawled out on his bunk in the Hoag, yearning for that contact, that pull deep in his stomach, the relief that only someone else can gift you.  
“So, what’ll it be, Mr. MacManus?”  
“Take off yer fuckin’ clothes.”  
What was once McGinty’s bar had now suddenly turned into a frantic race of the flesh, each party trying to see who could get naked the fastest, a competition that had no loser.  
Heather yanked her scrubs off of her hips, exposing pale skin and black, sporty panties with a matching bra that did nothing but favors for her chest; all the while Connor had yanked his belt buckle apart, dropping the heavy weight of his jeans around his ankles, stepping out of them stark naked after having already discarded his tight t-shirt.  
Heather eyed Connor’s suddenly exposed girl with a raised eyebrow before returning her gaze to his eyes.  
“I’ve never really been a boxer OR a briefs kind of guy…” Connor shot Heather a crooked smile that instantly made her thighs twitch.  
“Well from all of your women, past and future, bravo and thank you, Mr. MacManus.”  
Biting his bottom lip, Connor gave a low growl before making his way over to Heather, grabbing her by her hip and yanking her panties down with the other.  
“Why… The fuck… are you not…naked?”  
Unable to remove her bra fast enough for Connor’s liking, Heather watched in heart stopping astonishment as Connor’s hands yanked apart her bra in the center of her chest, snapping her underwire like a twig before discarding the ruined article of clothing that stood in his way.  
Stepping back, Connor took a small moment to look Heather up and down, like a rabid animal taking the time to appreciate the meal they were about to violently devour.  
“Like what you see?” Heather’s breath was huffed as she watched Connor anxiously.  
“Sit on the table.”  
Scooting backward, Heather’s ass made contact with the tabled booth that was only feet from her. Doing as Connor commanded she gave a small hop, landing her bare ass square on the edge of the table.  
Without a moment’s hesitation Connor dropped to his knees in front of her and spread her thighs wide.  
“Connor… You don’t have to, I mean, I know it’s been so long for you and-“  
“Shut up, I’ve wanted this fer two fuckin’ years and you’re ruinin’ it.”  
Before she could so much as open her mouth in another weak protest, Connor had buried his face against her waiting heat. There was no amount of preparation or time that could have readied Heather for the hunger that would be unleashed between her legs. Connor’s tongue shot between her folds, searching and discovering her delicately buried pearl that sat above her already aching entrance. His lips massaged and nipped at her bundle of nerves, sending instant shock waves down her spine and forcing his name to tumble from her mouth only seconds after him making contact.  
His tongue jumped from the stimulation of her clit to protruding and circling her entrance, lapping up any evidence of arousal he had coaxed from within her. Groaning hungrily, Connor grabbed Heather’s hips in desperation, forcing her to roll her hips against his face and making damn sure that she couldn’t get any bright ideas of trying to pull away from him due to the harsh and sudden wave of stimulation.  
“Oh my god… Oh my god, Connor!”  
Gripping a hand tightly into his hair, Heather flung her legs down Connor’s bare and tattooed back, tightening her body against the tongue that was going to make her come faster than any previous tongues had managed to do so.  
Without warning, Connor inserted two fingers into Heather’s soaked heat, thrusting his hand in and out at a speed that was mind-boggling. Throwing her head back and clenching her eyes shut, Heather could do nothing more but chat Connor’s name over and over as she quickly neared her climactic peak.  
Just when she was absolutely sure that if she didn’t come soon she was going to lose her mind, Connor pushed his fingers upwards, pressing hard on her g-spot before sucking hard on her engorged clit.  
Opening her mouth to scream did absolutely nothing, as the ability to make sound had abandoned her. Heather’s body went into full convulsions, shaking over and over as her orgasm washed over her in waves she could drown in. She hadn’t come that hard in years and she was quickly realizing that Connor MacManus was an addiction she had no intention of ever kicking.  
Rising up from between her legs, Connor grabbed Heather’s jaw and forced his tongue past her panting lips, the taste of her own climax washing over her taste buds.  
“See how fuckin’ good you taste, darlin’?”  
Heather could do little more than nod before Connor was positioning his rock hard erection at her soaked lips.  
There were no timid insertions, no tender moments; Connor thrust his hips forward and filled Heather so tightly that she would have thought it was her first time. Sweat had began to gather between her breasts as Connor took of her legs, catching his hands beneath her knees, holding her tightly in place as he adopted an animalistic vigor.  
Pulling himself almost out of her before forcefully making his way back in, Connor made sure to appease every inner pressure point that Heather’s core could contain, fucking her into absolute and unbelievable oblivion.  
“Jesus Christ, ya feel so fuckin’ good, baby.”  
His rosary swinging wildly from his neck, Heather watched as Connor’s tanned and inked body moved against her own in a rhythm that she had previously never known existed. Snapping his hips violently in and out of her still convulsing channel, Heather was practically screaming from the overwhelming stimulation that was currently taking place within her.  
“Oh my god, Connor, fuck me! Don’t stop!”  
It was frightening how fast her second climax was catching up with her, but then again, she was positive that the mere sight of a nude Connor could get her off.  
Linking her ankles tightly around the small of his back, Heather assisted Connor in fucking her deeply, her body begging him to come for her.  
“Fuck… I’m gettin’ fuckin’ close.”  
“That’s right baby, give in… I know how badly you need to come, Connor.”  
Sweat had pooled over his brow and was running down the bridge of his nose, Connor’s eyes locked dead center on the connection between your two bodies.  
“Want me ta pull out?”  
Connor’s question was little more than barely audible grunts but even in the heat Heather could make it out.  
“No! I need to feel you come! Shit, Connor… Connor, I’m coming!”  
There was a rush of color and light that played over Heather’s vision as her second orgasm soaked both her and Connor. Unable to catch her breath and heaving heavily, Heather felt Connor’s hot and violent release coat her inner walls.  
There were no words for the sounds that escaped Connor’s mouth as his body gave way into something that he had dreamed about for years. Whining moans tumbled from Connor’s slack mouth, his legs giving out as he fell against Heather. The two of them dropping like dead weight against the table, clinging to each other’s soaked skin.  
“Fuck me! I don’t think I can move.” Connor kissed Heather’s exposed breast, giving way to a small laugh at how quickly things had just escalated between them.  
“Suck it up, MacManus. I’m sure we’ll regain use of our legs in a week or two, Jesus.” Heather’s chest raised and fell while she still fought for enough air to enter her lungs.  
Rolling off of her and taking a seat in the booth, Connor sprawled his legs out as far as they would go, stretching deeply and giving Heather a peak at the most delicious sight she had ever come in contact with.  
“God, you’re pretty…” Heather’s eyes traveled up and down the length of Connor’s body shamelessly.  
“Thanks, darlin’, and may I just say that you are not anything to scoff at yourself.” Connor chuckled under his breath while rolling his head back and fourth against either side of his neck.  
A lurid idea popping into her mind, Heather hopped quietly off of the table and lowered herself between Connor’s legs.  
“You’ve got to be kiddin’ yourself… I don’t know what 20 year olds you fuck on the weekends, but I’m gonna need some time to recoup.”  
“Fine, you can take your time; I’ll just be down here. Don’t you worry your pretty little head over me.”  
Heather positioned herself against Connor’s exposed skin, nuzzling her cheek against his softly furred pelvis before running the tip of her tongue up the length of his shaft.  
“Fucking Christ…” Connor inhaled harshly and peered down at the woman between his legs with hooded eyes.  
“I’m tellin’ ya, baby. I’mma need a bit more time-“  
Grabbing his girth tightly in her palm, Heather popped his still leaking head between her lips, swirling the most sensitive part of Connor’s body between tongue and cheek, his erection already making a quick comeback.  
“Ahhh, fuck… oh my god.”  
“How about you let me worry about what your dick can do? I seem to have a lot more faith in the old boy than you do, “ Heather said, removing Connor from her mouth with a suction of her lips.  
The Irishman gave her a lazy nod before rolling his head back against his shoulders, allowing a woman he had barley met an hour ago, suck his dick like her life depended on it.  
Lowering herself onto him with ease, Heather had always prided herself on her oral talents. Bouncing her head in Connor’s lap, she had his cock back to it’s full up right an locked position within sixty seconds; all the while coaxing crude obscenities to fall from Connor’s slacked jaw.  
The back of Heather’s throat made contact with Connor’s tip and his entire body instantly gave a jerk, which was of course exactly what Heather was shooting for. Sucking cock had always been the area in which she exceeded expectations, and watching Connor squirm from her tongue was her new happy place.  
Flicking her tongue gingerly over the slit that sat on his tip, Heather could already taste the salty evidence of Connor’s returned sexual longing, which further tempted her to pick up her speed and add a light teeth grazing just to shiver his spine the right way.  
“Fuck, baby… Good girl, suck Daddy’s cock… that’s it.”  
His lurid words coupled with his thickly Irish accent set a fire between Heather’s legs.  
Never losing momentum, Heather pushed Connor back with the palm of her hand, silently instructing him to lean back, but not before offering up her hand, which Connor quickly popped in and out of his mouth without hesitation.  
Shouldering his legs to fall open widely, Heather caressed Connor’s tightening sack before trudging forward towards her desired destination.  
Working tight, pressured circles, Heather gently eased her way past Connor’s puckered entrance, forcing her way into his heated channel, searching avidly for the magic button that she knew would force Connor up and off into euphoric bliss.  
Fingering his ass and sucking his cock, Heather had locked up every single muscle in Connor’s body; every part of him at a rigid stand still, until she hit it and he cried out her name loud enough that she was sure Doc and Murphy would wake.  
Grabbing her by the shoulders, Connor instantly yanked Heather up off of the ground, throwing caution to the wind and forcing her down on top of the table, revealing her perked ass in front of him.  
Unable to contain himself, Connor laid a hard palm across Heather’s milky cheek; the echoing sound of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of the bar.  
“Ah, fuck!”  
Heather bit her lip bloody as a shock wave of pain and pleasurable anticipation erupted between her legs.  
“You like that, baby? Does my girl like being spanked?”  
Heather could already feel her walls clenching at the dirty Irishman’s questioning and she was already silently dying for him to fuck her.  
Another slap hit her and she couldn’t contain the squeal that erupted from her chest as a red handprint popped up across her ass.  
“I asked you a question.”  
“Yes! I love it! I’ll love anything for you, just get inside me!”  
“You that desperate Darlin’?”  
Losing all sense of self-control and dignity, Heather nodded her head violently, all the while her cheek pressed down against the table while Connor held tightly to her hips and ass.  
“Beg me.”  
Heather clenched her eyes shut, knowing what she wanted but unwilling to openly, verbally, vocalize it.  
Connor laid his hand against her ass a third time and relished in the yelped reaction he received.  
“Fuck me, Connor! Please! Make me come all over your thick cock, it’s the only thing I need. Please, baby, I’ll do anything.”  
The feeling of Connor’s cock pressed firmly against her entrance was something Heather could never tire of, as her entire body clenched and readied itself for the harsh intrusion.  
Placing a hand against the back of her neck, Connor pinned Heather down to the table before fucking his way past her damp folds. From this position, Heather relished in the fact that each and every one of Connor’s penetrations teased and pushed against her g-spot, already making her feel like coming was not a goal, but instead an unstoppable force.  
With every new thrust erupted a deep chested moan from within Heather’s being; which was close to inaudible compared to the desperate growls that were being let loose from Connor’s mouth.  
Grasping the sides of the table with her sweat riddled palms, Heather assisted Connor in his endeavors by forcefully slamming her body backwards onto Connor’s cock, meeting him half way and causing him to curse mercilessly into the dark bar.  
“So…fucking…tight.”  
Connor’s words came in harsh spurts between thrusts while his fingers dug bruises into Heather’s flesh.  
“Harder! God dammit, Connor! Harder!”  
The lurid slapping sound of Connor’s body making contact with Heather’s was the soundtrack to her climax as she bit her lip in preparation for the release she craved.  
“Fuck, come for me baby, soak my cock… show me what I’ve been missin’.”  
At Connor’s command, Heather’s third and final orgasm ripped through her; her thighs shook and her channel tightened, milking Connor’s already leaking cock for all it was worth.  
“Fuck! Fucking…Shit! Connor!” Heather screamed into the tabletop and a burst of liquid lust left her, coating her thighs as well as Connor’s.  
“There’s my girl, now get on yer fuckin’ knees.”  
Not a single care of question in the world, Heather gratefully felt her knees hit the filthy bar floor, opening her mouth widely, already knowing what it was that Connor wanted.  
After a few quick twists of his wrist, Connor’s engorged cock pushed past Heather’s parted lips. Connor coated her tongue in thick, steamed spurts of seed that Heather wasted no time in devouring.  
Heather watched joyously as Connor’s chest seized and every muscle in his chiseled torso froze while emptying himself into her mouth.  
“Fucking Christ… What the fuck just happened?”  
Connor felt down against the floor, sprawling himself naked and spread eagle.  
“Great sex. Great sex is exactly what just fucking happened.”  
Heather slowly made her way, crawling on all fours, to where Connor was lying, nuzzling her way into the space between his arm and chest.  
“Well it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss McGinty.”  
Connor huffed heavily before giving Heather a swoon worthy smile.  
“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. MacManus.”  
Heather blew a straw curl from out of her eyes as she spoke.  
Leaning down, Connor planted a soft kiss against Heather’s damp forehead, a silent and grateful ‘thank you.’  
“That, baby, was worth waiting two years for.”


End file.
